The Eyes are Windows to the Soul
by AzelaWolf
Summary: When Naruto begins to have strange dreams about Konoha's college outcast, he is convinced fate has something bigger planned for them. AU. Warning: Yoai, drug use, mildly graphic imagery, abuse, language
1. Speak of the Devil and he Shall Come

**A/N: Hey guys ! This is my first story, so please keep this in mind when reading ! I'm grateful to all who have made it this far. I do not own Naruto nor do I make money from this story.**

Warning: Yoai, **drug use** , **mildly graphic imagery** , **abuse** , **language**

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Chapter One: Speak of the Devil and He Shall Come

 **Naruto's POV**

 _I open my eyes to find myself standing in the middle of a dirt path, winding through the dense mass of trees and shrubs engulfing me. Darkness swallows the night, but the forest is softly illuminated by a crater kissed full moon lingering overhead. Unsure of what else to do, I start to shuffle my feet in the direction the path is leading me. In no hurry, I take in the details of my strange surroundings. There is an ominous lack of sound. No insects chirped, no animals scuffled through the leaves, and there is a strange thin haze floating around my ankles._

 _As I walk farther along the path, I start to see the vague shape of a man come to view. Suddenly my heart speeds up, thumping louder and louder against my chest, filling the silent forest with sound. I ignore my gut instinct to turn around and run, creeping ever so slowly towards the emerging figure in my vision. As I inch closer I realize his back is to me, and he is unmoving._

 _"Hey ! Hey you, are you alright ?" I try to call to him, but it came out as more of a whisper._

 _At this point, my speeding heart felt like it would burst inside of me, but I can't turn away. Only a few feet apart now, I can see his vivid crimson hair and tall, sleek figure. I couldn't help but notice he was shirtless, wearing only form fitting black jeans. His skin seemed to give off an almost faint glow in the moonlight, compelling me to feel it under my fingertips. Slowly, I reach my hand out to touch his shoulder lightly. As my fingers press against his strangely cold skin, I shake his body slightly._

 _"Hey man, are you okay ? What are you doing out-" he whipped around suddenly, causing my words to catch in my throat._

 _He has a red Kanji tattoo on the left side of his forehead, almost unseen by his red bangs. Where his eyes used to be were now writhing larvae that spill down his pale face. My scream is halted as his mouth dropped open, emitting a horrible screeching. "BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-"_

I shoot up in my bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Realizing it was only a dream, I let out a deep breath before turning to my chirping alarm clock. It reads 8:50am.

"SHIT ! I'm gonna be late to class !" I scream.

I throw my comforter off my legs as I jump out of bed, swiftly quieting my loud alarm clock. Panicked, I grab the first pair of worn blue jeans I see, pulling them on as I reach for my favourite orange shirt from the mess of clothes on the floor. _The professor is gonna kill me !_ Cursing myself mentally, I grab my bag as I sprint out the door, forced to skip breakfast. Man I really wanted some ramen !

"Hey, Naruto !" I hear a familiar voice yell behind me.

I look back to see one of my best friends, Kiba, waving at me in front of his dorm room door, Akamaru by his side, apparently just returning from their morning walk.

"Sorry Kiba I gotta run ! I'm late !" I say dashing down the male dorm hallway to the entrance, but not before flashing him a friendly grin.

"Again ?!" I hear him laugh before I burst through the dorm's front doors.

Blazing sunshine rained down on me, causing me to stop and blink away the white spots in my vision. I look out across the vast circular courtyard.

There is a large water fountain in its center, encircled by four stone flower beds at the perimeter equally spaced apart in quarter sections. Beautiful variations of lavender, rose, sunflower, birds of paradise and more adorn the courtyard's flower beds. Tall oak trees grew around the outskirts of the courtyard, giving the space a comfortable enclosed feeling. Benches were placed under some of the largest trees which act as a safe haven for those who want to get away and find peace. Even though I've attended Konoha's community college for over a year now, it still took my breath away to see the peaceful calm of the courtyard each morning.

Shaking off my awe of the beautiful sight, I start down the few steps that connect the dorm to the brick that makes up the courtyard. Picking up the pace, I run straight ahead to the opposite end of the campus, desperately trying to make it to class on time.

Jogging down the winding sidewalk towards my first class, my thoughts drift back to my dream and that mysterious redhead. There was something about him that was off. . Besides the fact that he had bugs in his eye sockets of course. Why did it seem like he was. . Familiar ?

I wasn't able to ponder the thought much longer as I catch something in my peripheral vision. There, barely noticeable under the protection of unearthed oak roots, sits a crimson headed boy with a Kanji tattoo. I didn't have much time to even formulate a thought as my face connected with the pavement.

 **Gaara's POV**

Slowly prying open my heavy lidded eyes, I sit up on my bed in the unnaturally dark room. Looking to the digital clock on my darkly colored wooden nightstand, it displays the time to be 8am.

With a small sigh, I push myself off my bed and pull the light switch on the fan above my head. Closing the few steps between myself and my full length mirror, I examine my face. Running my hand up my forehead, I hold my deep red bangs against my head to fully see the effects of my insomnia. My slightly bloodshot eyes are rimmed with dark circles, it seems even the sleep provoking marijuana I smoked last night, just like every other night, couldn't fix those permanent purple bags. Even though the weed lulled me to sleep on a good night, it only allows me a few hours at a time. Letting my bangs fall over my face again, I turn away from my reflection to start my daily routine.

My room isn't the largest in the world, but if it gave me a place to wallow in my own thoughts, away from the nuisance that was the human race, I didn't complain. I have a queen sized mattress in the far right corner of the room, with an art table at the foot of the bed in the right corner closest to the door. On it is a neatly organized arrangement of multiple art mediums including paints, graphite pencils, colored pencils, watercolors and the like. Across from the bed is a closet which contains mostly my shirts and jackets, along with other personal belongings. To the right of the closet in the far left corner is the rectangular mirror I stood in front of, a covered window between the mirror and my bed, a tall dresser to the left of the closet which stores my pants, underwear and socks, and finally a bookshelf to the right of the dresser, stuffed with various titles.

I turn to the closet now to pick out my outfit for the dreaded day to come. Sticking with something simple, I pull out a thin black long sleeved shirt and a pair of skinny jeans matching the color of my hair from my dresser. From my rather empty dresser top, I sweep up my black eyeliner, turning back to the mirror to try and cover up what I could of any signs that something is wrong with me. As I slowly and carefully line my eyes with the liquid gel, I start to look a little normal again.

Returning my eyeliner to its home on my dresser, I pull on my black converse and check the clock again. 8:15, I still have some time to kill before my first class starts at 9. Grabbing a sketchbook and some pencils along with my black school bag, I stand in front of my room door. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath before plastering a stoic mask on my face.

I open the door and briskly walk down the stairs, trying to avoid any unnecessary socializing with my "family." Unfortunately, I couldn't slip away this time as my father is in the kitchen, a place I can't avoid walking past.

He is a tall man, taller than me, with brown hair in a style similar to my own. He is leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He narrows his eyes at me, his infamous glare of disgust for his disappointment of a son.

"You look like an emo faggot with all that make up on."

I clench my fists tightly but say nothing. I turn away from him and make my way to the front door, slamming it with more force than necessary behind me.

I don't bother to put any energy towards my father anymore. Although it's been a few years since he last physically hurt me, the insults come daily. My older siblings, Temari and Kankuro, turned a blind eye to his abuse years and years ago. They couldn't dare soil their trophy children images to father.

Now outside, I make my way across the street to the college so conveniently located on the other side.

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I look down at the now finished drawing, it is of the old oak I sat across from. Its roots have been unearthed in such a way that give them the form of long slender fingers attempting to cage a victim in their grasp. Intrigued, I decided that was how I would pass the time. As I trace over every detail with my eyes, I hear a loud "Fuck !" and a crashing close by.

I look over and see a blond headed boy in an orange shirt and jeans face down on the concrete sidewalk. He jumps up quickly, covering his spewing bloody nose as he looks for a culprit to blame. _Idiot,_ I thought. Giving up his search for the invisible perpetrator, I see him turn his focus on me. He isn't very far away, and from this distance I can see a shocked expression reflecting on his features. Giving him an icy glare, his facial expression visibly changes to that of fear as he starts walking away as quickly as he came.

Shaking my head, I pull out a small black touchscreen phone from my pocket to check the time: 8:55. Quickly gathering my art supplies and book bag, I start heading towards the cluster of classroom buildings, specifically the art building.

 **Naruto's POV**

 _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck_ is all I can manage to repeat in my mind as I stumble towards my classroom building, clutching my bleeding nose. My head is pounding and I can barely stand up right with the pain shooting up my nose into my face. As I push the glass doors open, I start down the hallway opposite to where my classroom is.

Forcing the heavy bathroom door open with my shoulder, I speed towards the closest sink and begin to wash my hands and face of my now drying blood. Gripping the sides of the porcelain so tightly my knuckles turn white, my body starts to tremble. _Was that. . Him ? The guy from my dream ? There's no way. ._ Shuddering at the images of the pulsing larvae that spewed from his eyes, I shake my head violently. None of this made sense. I didn't know the guy, did I ? Rummaging through the memories of faces I've seen around this school, I come up blank.

I look at myself in the mirror hanging in front of me for the first time since barging into the bathroom. _I look like hell._ My nose wasn't broken, but it wasn't pretty either. I trace a finger over the light symmetrical whisker tattoos on each of my cheeks out of habit. Sighing as I look at my now bloodstained shirt, I decide to skip class today.

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I found myself in front of Kiba's room door, rasping on the hard wood rhythmically with my knuckles. I heard Akamaru barking on the other side of the door for a few seconds before Kiba opens it quickly to my grinning face.

"Hey Naru- WHOA WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE ?!"

He yells suddenly, grabbing my shirt front, pulling me inside forcefully. He quickly shuts the door and turns to me with anger glinting in his dark animalistic eyes.

"Who did this to you Naruto ?! Who do I have to kill ?!" He is shaking with anger now, his fists balled up.

"Kiba, listen !" I plead, trying to get him to calm down. "No one did this, I fell."

"Don't give me that bullshit !" He is thrashing about now.

"Kiba! Will you listen to me for just a second!" I shout, a little louder than I mean to.

He stops suddenly at my forceful remark, his eyes wide. I quickly grin apologetically and try again.

"Sorry, what I meant to say was, can we sit down ?"

We walk over to Kiba's bed and I plop down, taking in the surroundings of the familiar room. All the dorms are set up the same way, the bare minimum, making personalization easy. Kiba has rock band posters decorating his walls, a small computer desk in the corner with a dog bed by its side across from the bed I'm sitting on. I'm pretty sure he snuck Akamaru in, like he does everywhere else. Next to Akamaru's bed is a medium sized flatscreen with an Xbox close at hand atop a wooden dresser, various games stacked on the floor next to it. He has a mini fridge with a microwave on top near the other corner of the room, the only kitchen appliances allowed in the tiny dorm space.

As Kiba sits on the bed next to me, Akamaru joins him in his lap, paying me no mind. Kiba pet him absentmindedly as he looks at me with concern in his features.

"So, what happened ?" He asks finally.

I sigh and decide to start from the beginning, explaining the weird dream to him before the fateful encounter earlier.

"I had this crazy dream I was in this forest, and there was a guy there ! He had red hair and a matching red kanji tattoo on his forehead. When he looked at me his eyes were bugs, it was freaky!" I explain to my friend. He caught me off guard with his interrupting statement.

"That sounds like Gaara" he interjects, a hint of disgust in his tone. Akamaru gives a low growl at the mention of the name.

"Wait what !?" I exclaim, looking at him with wide eyes. "You know him?!" I demand, confused.

"Yeah, he's the college freak. You've never heard of him before ?" He questions carefully.

"No ! I've never even seen the guy, that's what got me hung up. How can this dude be in my dreams if I've never even met him before ?" I ask him, wishing he had the answer I am looking for.

"He goes to school here you dimwit, you've probably seen him without consciously knowing so. That doesn't explain what happened to your face, you know." he eyes me after that last statement.

I think over what he said and realize I probably overreacted. I grin, a little embarrassed, as I told him what happened.

"When I was trying to get to class, I saw him ! The Gaara guy, he was sitting under a tree and I guess it caught me off guard and I face planted" I say shyly, realizing how silly the whole thing sounded now.

Kiba just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You should probably keep away from him, people say he's a Satanist" he says darkly, suddenly serious. "Maybe he's messing with your dreams."

"What ? No way, come on, you can't really believe that" I scoff, suddenly defensive of the guy.

"I'm just saying, the guy gives me the creeps." He jokes, putting his hands up.

I roll my eyes and smile, putting the matter behind me quickly. "Well, I'm gonna get going. I had to skip breakfast trying to make it to physics, and I'm hungry !" I proclaim, my stomach rumbling loudly at the thought of some yummy ramen.

"Alright but we gotta go get a beer sometime soon okay ?" He says, eyeing me expectantly as I rise from his bed.

"It's a deal ! Thanks for talking to me Kiba !" I give him another grin, ruffle Akamaru's fur and head to the door, saying my goodbyes.

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 **A/N: So, I hope you liked my first chapter ! I'm already working on the second one, but do keep in mind school is starting soon and I may become busy. Updates might not come quickly because I'm taking these chapters really seriously, having many friends read over it before making changes and finally submitting. Please review and give me helpful tips and opinions to better later chapters ! Even a kind word will inspire me. Thank you for reading.**


	2. A Deal with the Devil

**A/N: A special thank you to RvsB for reviewing my story ! Your kind words really inspired me to push on.  
I would also like the apologize for the wait. I've been doing last minute school things and they've kept me busy, so I hope this lengthy chapter can make up for it ! Enjoy !** **  
**  
Warnings: Yoai, **drug use** , **language** , abuse, **mildly graphic images** ****

Chapter Two: A Deal with the Devil

 **Naruto's POV**

 _As I come to consciousness in pitch black, I question if my eyes are really open. Flexing my limbs, I find myself unbound. I reach out with my senses, probing the darkness with hearing heightened by fear. I catch the faint dripping of water echo throughout the space I occupy. Judging by the thick humid air and the movement of sound, I conclude that I'm in a cave. Reaching my arms out to find a nearby surface, I take small steps forward in the darkness. Groping the empty air, I keep up my blind search for a hard surface to lead me out of this hole in the earth._

 _Suddenly my fingertips weave into thousands of soft fibers. ._

 _Hair._

 _My scream rips through the silence of the cave. As the sound reverberates off of the stone walls, I fling myself back with such force I lose my balance and fall to the unforgiving cold rock. My heartbeat is pounding in my throat almost painfully. I feel my stomach tighten to the point of retching as I listen for any signs of movement._

 _As if the sun itself enters the room, an unknown light source blinds me as it fills the cave with its presence. My hands fly to my eyes, the sudden brightness leaving me stunned. Blinking my vision into focus, my eyes land on the horrifying scene before me._

 _A man with red hair is on his knees, his head bowed deeply. I immediately recognize him. His wrists are chained to the high cave ceiling behind him, causing his arms to bend backwards uncomfortably over his head. There is a gaping wound in his chest so deep I can see his struggling heart trying to beat, causing blood to pulse out over his frail white figure. Paralyzed in a fear that soaked me to the core, I couldn't emit more than a whimper._

 _Slowly, he pulls his head up to look me in the eyes. I gasp as his seafoam eyes lock with mine. The sadness reflected in those pupil-less orbs is so deep I feel like I will drown in it. The pure agony written on his face stirred something inside of me. Fear cut through his despair as he struggles to whisper._

 _"Naruto. . Please. . Help me"_

 _The moment the last syllable leaves his lips, I see an abnormal movement beneath the surface of his skin. The intruder moves upwards inside his exposed body and suddenly a mass of black spiders burst from the wound in his chest. Thousands of arachnid crawl down his slender figure, covered in his blood, moving almost as one being. Pooling around his now limp carcass, their attention redirects towards me._

 _Fear rooted in every cell of my body, I find that I cannot move. Helplessly, I watch as I'm besieged by the black creatures, my body being devoured like acid._

I wake up writhing in my sheets, rolling off of my bed onto the hard floor in the fray. Breathing heavily, I lie motionless as I try to overcome the deep fear still woven into my every nerve. God I hate spiders, why did it have to be spiders ?

Sighing, I free myself from the mess of fabric I became tangled in. I stand up, throwing a glance to my alarm clock, letting out a breath of relief to see its only 8:30. I start to repeat my motions of the morning in an attempt to clear my head of the sleepy fog. I take the few steps to my dresser and pull out my clothes for the day, not paying much attention as my thoughts are focused on the events from my dream. What does it mean ? This Gaara character is haunting me, and I'm determined to find out what secrets he holds.

Pushing open the doors to my physics class, I make a bee line for the back rows to grab my seat by my friend Shikamaru. I flash him my famous smile. The guy is a genius, he already has the entire curriculum for this course down whereas I still struggle understanding the first chapter. Leaning towards his desk, I poke his elbow.

"Pssst, Shikamaru, can I have your notes from yesterday ?" I whisper to him.

He looks over to me and huffs, probably from the request to exert energy of any form. He is the smartest kid in class, but by far the laziest bastard to walk the earth. He passes me a stack of papers which I hastily took pictures of with my phone. _I'll copy those later_ I told myself, knowing very well that I wouldn't. At least I have them, right ?

As I slide the notes back over to my friend, I realize he might know something about Gaara and my weird dreams. Being as observant as he is, he must know something. I decide to give it a go.

"Shikamaru, do you know a kid by the name Gaara ?" I ask tentatively.

I see him look at me from the corner of his eye, indicating I have his attention. I continue.

"He has red hair and a kanji tat on his forehead. Ring a bell ?" I question, enthusiasm slipping into my voice.

Shikamaru's eyes close and he tilts his head up in thought. After a few moments he nods and turns to me.

"He's the one people claim to be a satanist right ?" He asks, already bored of me.

I get a little steamed that Shikamaru referred to him as that, giving him a pouty glare. Wait, why do I care what people call him ? I don't even know the guy. Shaking off my internal dispute, I get to the point of my asking.

"Yeah that's the one. I've been having these weird dreams about him, and I feel like maybe they mean something" I start, a little embarrassed at how that might be interpreted. I go into detail about the gruesome visions, hoping Shikamaru might have some insight on these strange happenings. He listens carefully, his fingers twine together over his desk, thinking over what I say. After a few moments, he answers nonchalantly.

"You know, maybe you're just gay for the kid" he says flatly, although slight sarcasm shines through.

"WHAT ?! COME ON SHIKAMARU THIS IS SERIOUS !" I shout suddenly, my arms flailing wildly over my head. "Me, gay ?! Come on there's no way in hell I would-"

I stop mid sentence as I notice I have drawn the attention of the whole class with my outburst, causing the professor to look at me with annoyance. I scratch the back of my head lightly, an embarrassed grin on my face "Ah, sorry professor Kakashi" I say before he returns to the lecture I tuned out long ago.

I glare at the now smirking Shikamaru. "Alright, you had your fun, now do you know anything about him or not ?" I ask a little annoyed, but more curious than anything.

"He's an art student, you'll probably find him in Deidara's class if he's a sophomore like us." He informs me helpfully. "As for your dreams, I really don't know what they could mean, I never really was into psychology. Be careful around Gaara though, I've heard he has. . Issues." Shikamaru says cautiously.

I nod, feeling a new drive to find out about the lone wolf. "Thanks Shikamaru !" I smile widely once again.

 **Gaara's POV**

Finally being free from that confining box of a room considered a peaceful environment, I start to walk down the hallway to my usual location amidst the trees.

I already have a headache from my shortage of weed and I need to get away before I snap. I hate class with every molecule of my being. The teacher, Deidara, was all too excited to draw attention to myself and my art. It takes every ounce of strength not to beat the life out of him every time he speaks to me or about me.

My classmates resent me for my talent, fueling the unexplained loathing I receive from them. Not that it is bothersome, however, as I prefer it that way. The less people try to talk to me, the better off I am. Art is one of the only things in life I could say I "enjoy," if that's possible, but being locked in a room with others who watch my every movement with disgust takes any appeal I have for the activity away. Not that their looks of disapproval phase me, I just hate the attention.

I push open the front doors of the building to see the courtyard close by. Before I can enjoy the feeling of finally being free of school and socialization for the day, I hear a much too cheery voice penetrate my eardrums.

"Hey Gaara ! Wait up !"

I don't bother to "wait up" or even see who called and continue making my way to my destination, which seems farther and farther away as the voice's owner catches up to me.

"Hey hey ! What's up ?" I hear the boy say behind me, his smile evident in each word, to my dismay.

I don't answer and continue walking, only a little distance between the trees and I now.

But then. . I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"Hold on, I have something important to ask you !" He pleads.

I stop in my tracks.

In one swift movement I take him by the wrist and yank him over my shoulder, bringing him to the ground on his back in one fowl swoop, implementing more force than intended.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me." I seethe through clenched teeth before stepping over him to leave as quickly as I could.

I register that it was the boy I saw fall yesterday. _What the hell does he want ?_ The physical exertion causes my headache to worsen, a steady pounding now racking my brain.

"Hey, don't you walk away from me !" He growls defiantly as he grabs my ankle.

I look over my shoulder at him in disbelief, but I don't let it show on my face. Narrowing my eyes slightly, I spit my venom soaked words at him.

"Are you here to make a spectacle of yourself again ?"

If my head didn't feel like it would split in two, I would crush his bones beneath my feet right here.

The boy stands up promptly and grins, regardless of the fact that I just slammed him on the ground. He is standing a little too close for comfort, allowing me to clearly see the details of his face.

He eyes are a strikingly deep blue, reminding me of sapphires. They hold nothing but patience and happiness. It stuns me to see that someone can portray such energy and cheerfulness, even when I have shown him nothing but malice in the few interactions we've had. He has strange markings on his face I hadn't seen yesterday, making me wonder if he drew them on a childish impulse. Why do I care ? I just want to get this over with.

"What do you want ?" I say more than ask, my tone devoid of emotion.

The boy seems to perk up even more at my asking, making me wish I didn't.

"Uh well, I'm not too familiar with all those fancy art terms, but I was wondering if you could do a piece for me ?" He asks slowly, his cheeks letting through the slightest bit of pink.

I scoff at his request. "A commission ? Why would I do that for you ?" I ask with ice frosting my words. I don't do charity work.

"I-I can pay you for it ?" He smiles shyly at the suggestion before giving a more confident grin.

I glare at him while I turn over the idea in my head. I hate doing art for others, those who have the courage to ask always demand things I deem too stupid for my time. No one understands my style and the meaning behind the stories I lace into each picture. Although I want to refuse, the aching in my lobes reminds me how badly I need the money.

"Fine" is all I give him. I turn away and close the distance between myself and the trees, not caring if he follows me or not.

As I dreadfully expect, he is on my heels again and his cheerful voice rings in my ears.

"So I was thinking that I would let you have most of the say in the drawing, as long as I'm in it !" He explains as he grins again.

Does this kid ever stop smiling ? I can practically feel the sickly positivity roll off his body. It's making my head hurt worse. I just want to get this over with so I can take his money and go.

"Oh by the way, I know your name so I guess it's only fair if you know mine ! I'm Naruto Uzumaki !" He exclaimed with pride.

"I don't care who you are. Now go sit over there and shut up" I gesture vaguely to the tree roots that model for me often as I pull out my sketch pad and variations of drawing pencils.

The boy obliges to the first command but continues to talk, to my displeasure. I do my best to tune him out but his barrage of questions and comments in that annoying voice proves hard to ignore.

"What are you going to draw ?"

"What kind of stuff do you normally draw ?"

"How long have you drawn for ?"

"Are you normally so quiet ?"

"Can I see yet ?"

It takes a mothers patience for me not to snap my pencil in half and throw my sketchbook at him. I fill in the details as quickly as I can, praying to anything that someone would come along and shoot me in the head.

I pull out my phone to see its 2pm. It took me 4 hours to complete the drawing, and its a miracle I survived. Somehow, the blond idiot managed to talk for the whole length of time. About what, I couldn't care less. I put down the book and start to pack my pencils in their carrying case, indicating I'm finished.

As the still energetic boy notices my actions, he quickly rises from his position and stretches his limbs before walking over.

"Finally, I can see it !" He chirps both happy and slightly disgruntled.

I mimic his actions and hold the sketchbook out for him to examine. He takes it from me and immediately his eyes widen, shocked at either the death or the talent. I honestly dont care which, I just want to get the money I was promised.

"This. . This is amazing, Gaara !" He shouts with awe, looking between the drawing and I in disbelief.

Inwardly, my pride flares at the praise, but I say nothing and only half shrug instead.

"Oh yeah, your money ! Uh, how much do you want for it ? I don't have a hundred dollars, but this thing sure is worth it !" The boy asks with a genuine smile.

I feel my gut clench to see such happiness. It is something I refuse to believe exists, but standing before me is someone who can smile without a care in the world. I dont know how that makes me feel.

"Twenty five is fine," I mumble, not meeting his shining eyes.

"You got a deal !" He shouts, turning towards the dorm buildings after returning my sketchbook. "Come with me so I can get my money."

I grab my bag and follow him at my own pace.

As we enter the dorm halls, I follow the blond to his room not too far from the entrance. He opens the door and offers for me to come inside, but I just shake my head. I'm not interested in entering his life in any way, shape or form.

He disappears in haste only to reappear soon after with a few bills in his hands. I rip the drawing from its perforated page and we trade our papers. After stuffing the money in my pocket I turn to leave, not bothering for farewells.

"Bye Gaara, see you later !" The blond calls after me.

 _I sure hope not._

It's 11pm now and I'm standing on the street corner by my house, waiting for my dealer to show up. The night is dark, the sidewalk illuminated by evenly spaced street lamps. I texted him thirty minutes ago and he still hasn't showed. I'm really impatient by now, already having to wait until my family went to sleep before being able to sneak out the door to meet him.

Finally, I catch his SUV in my vision. As he pulls up beside me in the street, I free my recently acquired cash from its temporary home in my pocket. He rolls his driver side window down, a wicked smile playing on his thin lips.

"Hello again, Gaaaara" he chuckles to himself, dragging my name out to annoy me. I saw Kabuto in the passenger seat, the dim street light reflecting off his round glasses.

"You've kept me waiting long enough Orochimaru, now give me what you came here for," I demand, holding my folded cash out between my first two fingers.

He took it with pleasure, dropping the bag of contraband into my waiting hand while giving Kabuto the cash. I took a moment to admire it before nodding to the snake eyed man and his companion.

"See you lateerrrr" he purrs before rolling his window up, taking off without another word.

I stuff the green in my pocket and make the quick walk to my house.

Once inside, I swiftly and silently climb the stairs to my room in the darkness to assure I disturb no one. Once my door closes, I lock it for good measure. No one dares to enter my room even while I'm not home, but avoiding a scene with my family is my priority.

I switch the light on and retrieve the spoon bowl and lighter from my night table drawer before sitting in the middle of my bed. I care nothing about fancy appearances and "high quality glass." If it does the job that is all I care for.

I pluck the 5 grams of weed from my jean pocket, it's stench filling my room. I have been buying from Orochimaru loyally for years now, and over time he's given me a deal and sells to me for half the price.

Pressing the open baggie to my nose, I deeply inhale the strong odor of the plant. Involuntarily my mouth begins to water in need of the TCH inducing high.

Without wasting any time, I pack the deep bowl with the leaves and bring the glass to my lips. Lighting it with an experienced hand, I fill my lungs with the hot smoke. I close my eyes, letting the familiar sensation burn my lungs and throat until I'm close to choking. I exhale, watching the lazy smoke trail from my mouth into my room. I repeat this until the the once green leaves were white ash, dumping them onto an ash tray I brought out from the night stand.

By now, the high has already set in. With shaky hands, I set down my paraphernalia safely on the wood to my side. My vision blurs and bends all around me, my eyes burning. I feel as though I am watching my world move more than controlling it as I slide off of my bed slowly and walk towards my bathroom.

As I stand in the doorway to the small space near my room, I almost forget why I have come. Shaking myself mentally, I shut the door behind me and start up the shower. Being high fries my short term memory for the length of the buzz, causing tasks to take longer to complete properly.

I strip of my clothing and step into the hot water, letting out a soft moan as the powerful stream massages my scalp, the feeling intensified tenfold by the weed. Being in the shower allows the high to increase in magnitude, making it a must after finishing off a bowl.

I let my exposed body sway lightly under the overwhelming pleasure the water causes my skin. As my thoughts roam freely, they stop on the events that occurred between the blond and I earlier that day. His face appears in my minds eye, his big blue eyes staring deeply into my soul. I can't help but want to reach out and touch those strange markings on his face. .

I shake my head violently, forcing the image out of my head, causing me to lose my balance for a moment. I steady myself on the shower wall, leaning against it. _What the fuck was that ?_ Disgusted with myself, I stop the water abruptly and step out. Gathering my clothing, I don't bother to cover myself as I retreat to my room. I free a pair of black boxers from my dresser and clothe myself, throwing the dirty articles to a growing pile in the corner before switching the light off and laying down.

I've found that sometimes the high lets down my defenses and sets my emotions free. Angered, I yank on my sopping hair to force the memories of the blond from my mind. I refuse to waste brain cells on the yellow headed annoyance. Why did I think such a thought about him ? He is nothing but a pest, obstructing me from finding peace in my daily life and now even my high. I push the thoughts aside, focusing on the tingling in my limbs instead.

As the high settles back over my mind and body, I feel it tug at the corners of my consciousness until I fall into the realm of sleep.

 **Naruto's POV**

I sit on my bedside looking down at the drawing in my hands that was made only a few hours ago. It was beautiful in the most horrifying way.

The drawings center piece is yours truly, I am sitting cross legged towards the left side of the paper. Inhabiting the right half are twisted roots and branches coming together to form a sickly hand as it touches my shoulder lightly. The half of my body closest to the wooden appendage was decaying and rotting, as if death were killing me slowly. My skin has fallen away in many places, exposing muscle and bone. My face holds no emotion, looking into the eyes of the viewer with an intensity that is not my own.

Looking into the eyes of the drawing, my thoughts shift to the creator of the piece. Gaara resembled nothing of the man in my dreams. The man who has been visiting me in my sleep is scared, reaching out to me in need. Gaara is. . Empty. He is the shell of a once living person, devoid of any emotion but hatred. What fuels this ? What happened to Gaara that caused him to become who he has ? Maybe, underneath all of the hate and anger he lets shield him, is the helpless boy I see in my dreams.

 _I won't give up. I won't let him fall through my fingers. I will break down those walls he has built so high and show him there is something to live for._

A new determination settles over my body, I can feel it as if it is a blanket I could wrap around myself. Looking down again at the drawing resting above my palms, I jump up and retrieve a box of thumbtacks from my dresser top and carefully pin the drawing to the wall where it can clearly be seen from all points in the room.

I shoot a look at my clock to see its still early in the evening, only 5. A smile lighting up my face, I reach into my dresser to retrieve my wallet and kick on some shoes. I decide to take Kiba up on that offer.

Taking a seat next to Kiba at the bar, he flags down the bartender and orders us a round of beers. We aren't alcoholics, but college keeps us busy and a guys gotta have a night out, right ? Kiba claps me on the shoulder, his signature dark smile on his face.

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Naruto !" He beams after that.

I return the smile tenfold.

"No problem Kiba ! It's been a while, studies are keeping me up way too late to be healthy" I complain, although the smile never leaves my face.

The bartender returns with our beers and pops the caps off simultaneously in one graceful movement. Kiba and I both turn to each other, beer in hand, almost reading the others mind.

"On three ?" I grin, a glint of challenge in my eyes.

"One. . Two. . Three !" Kiba counts down confidently.

We both start chugging, not stopping to breathe until the last drops are drained. I slam my bottle on the table, claiming my victory only seconds before Kiba. Being the sore loser that he is, he roars.

"Oh no you don't !" He begins waving at the bartender again "we need another round over here !"

His smirk is cocky, ready to show me up on round two. The bartender quickly replaces our bottles, replicating his motions used on the first beers.

I count down this time, overconfident from my recent win. That confidence gets to my head as Kiba gets a head start on me and wins by a fraction of a second.

"Ha ! Serves you right you cocky bastard !" He punches my shoulder lightly before dropping from his stool. "Beer makes me gotta piss !" He explains as he struts off towards the men's room hastily.

Our little stunt gathered a small audience of gushing college girls. The leader of the clique sashays her way over to me, getting right in my personal space.

"Why hello there, I see you can handle your alcohol" she flirts, pressing her breasts up against my arm in a seductive manner.

"Uh, I-I, yeah I guess so" I stutter out, incredibly embarrassed.

The thing was, I wasn't embarrassed because she was "hot" or because a girl was pressing her boobs on me. I was choking up because she made me really uncomfortable. . Nothing about her was appealing.

"Excuse me !" I shout quickly before pushing her aside as I rise from my seat to dash after Kiba. I didn't bother to look back at her shocked expression.

When I burst into the bathroom I found Kiba at the sinks, about to leave. As he looks over to me notices something is up.

"Alcohol got you huh buddy ?" He sneers playfully.

"Nah, just some weirdo girl putting her boobs all over me ! Sheesh, can't find a decent person anywhere !" I shiver, exasperated at the awkward situation she put me in.

Kiba's mouth drops.

"A GIRL WILLINGLY THREW HERSELF ALL OVER YOU AND YOU RAN AWAY ?!" He grips my shoulder suddenly, shaking me violently as he went mad "ARE YOU GAY OR SOMETHING NARUTO ?!" He screams way too loud for the small bathroom space.

"What are you crazy !" I wail, drowning in my embarrassment. I imagine I look as though my face had been submerged in boiling water.

Straightening up, I knock Kiba's hands off of me.

"Listen Kiba ! I wanted to talk to you about something tonight and we won't get anywhere with you yelling about girls !" I press, trying to bring him back to reality.

He regains his head and nods before moving to the door.

"Let's get one more round while we're at it then, huh ?" He said warmly, his smile returning.

I was grateful to have such a friend like Kiba. Even though he could be a nut job, he knew when to be serious. After we return to our seats, thankfully seeing no signs of the girls, we are restocked with alcohol.

"So, I had another dream about Gaara last night" I start, deciding to explain things in order.

"Oh not this guy again !" Kiba moans with impatience as he takes a swig of his beer.

"Kiba this is important okay ! Hear me out, will you ?" I beg.

He crosses his arms in a half pout but nods.

I go into detail about the dream and what I thought it could mean about Gaara. Kiba seems pretty skeptical about the idea of even getting near him.

With a huff, I decide to spill.

"I hung out with him today" I let out quickly to get it over with, wincing already from the reaction I know will come.

"WHAT ? Naruto come on man, that guy is bad business ! You have no means hanging around the likes of him" Kiba argues, obviously distraught with my actions.

"I just needed to see him for myself ! And I did. I payed him to draw me a picture and I learned a lot about him. He's nothing like the boy in my dreams, but I think the deeper I go, I'll find that boy in Gaara, somewhere." I trail off, letting out a lot of personal feelings I didn't meant to, no thanks to the alcohol.

Kiba only gaped at my confession before shaking his head, a frown appearing across his features.

"I don't like it Naruto, but I can't stop you, I guess. Just don't come crying to me when shit hits the fan, cause I'll tell you I told you so" he points at me angrily as he makes his threatening promise.

It hurt to see my best friend angry at me. I didn't think what I was trying to do would be something to get upset about. Unfortunately, not everyone can see eye to eye, so I would have to let things run its course from here.

Paying for our drinks, we tipsily walk back to the campus only a few blocks away in silence.

 **A/N: This chapter really was all about exposing feelings and setting the stage. My usual pre-readers were all busy so this chapter went unbetaed ! Because of this I'm asking for all you silent readers to PLEASE leave opinions or constructive criticism if needed ! Even if you don't, thank you so much for reading ! Every time the view count goes up my self esteem rises. I have a solid plot line established so the next update shouldn't be too far away, all I need to do is fill in the details. Until then~**


	3. An Angel Shows His Face

Chapter Three: An Angel Shows His Face

 **Naruto's POV**

 _My consciousness bubbles to the surface of the darkness in my mind. Without opening my eyes, I probe with the nerves that lie underneath the surface of my skin. I feel the soft embrace of a blanket around my sleep ridden form._

 _Pulling my body into sitting position, I glance groggily around the unfamiliar room. By the looks of the brightly colored walls and scattered toys, I logically assume I am in a child's room._

 _It is still night outside, causing the dim room to be difficult to completely make out. I toss my legs over the side of the small bed and take to my feet._

 _Tiptoeing to the doorway that opens to the hallway, I decide to investigate the strange house I awoke in. My eyes become drawn to a glowing light coming from what seems to be the kitchen down a long and dark corridor._

 _Keeping one hand on the wall to ground myself, I take small steps towards the light._

 _Glass shattering in the direction the light is emitting from fills the silent air with piercing sound._

 _My heart leaps into my esophagus, causing me to choke on my own surprise. I hear a young male voice cry out and the thud of something hitting the floor._

 _Petrified, I wait for any signs of movement before evaluating my situation._

 _I hear muffled sobs that spear my heart, willing my legs to move. I let my body melt into the shadows as I edge closer to the kitchen doorway, unseen._

 _"You murderer, you pathetic waste of life. This is all your fault," came a cold, hate soaked voice._

 _"Father, please ! I-I don't understand !" Begs the small voice I take is the owner of the room I woke in._

 _I can see them now, huddled in the middle of the open space that is the kitchen. A small boy no older than 7 is in a defensive ball on the white linoleum, shaking with fear. My eyes widen as I look over his deep crimson hair. Gaara ? I can't be sure as his back is to me. The floor around him is littered in glass shards, perhaps an alcohol bottle ?_

 _I follow the boy's petrified stare to the tall man towering above him. The father's expression of pure hatred strikes fear even in me, and I am not the victim in this scenario. I look deeper into the stranger's eyes and see the slightest hint of sorrow lying underneath the fury of loathing._

 _In that moment, I catch the reflecting silver of a knife in the mans fist._

 _"You must die !" He yells suddenly, bringing the knife over his head._

 _It is as if time itself slows before my very eyes. I force my limbs to cooperate, but I move as though I am wadding through mud._

 _I can do no more than witness the knife plunge it's cold steel into the boy, his screams drowning me in an agony that cut just as finely as the blade._

Gasping, I am forced into consciousness. Clawing at the skin of my neck in panic of suffocation, I drink in the oxygen my lungs burn for. Regaining a steady heartbeat and breathing pattern, a groan escapes my lips at the pounding in my head.

Memories of the night before flood my mind as I sit up, holding my head in my hands. I am thankful that it's rather early and the sun is still rising, otherwise the hangover surely would be hitting me harder with the addition of bright light.

I sigh as I think back to the bar and Kiba's words. I already am so confused as to why I'm having these terrifying dreams about Gaara, and now to add to the stress, Kiba is mad at me. Hopefully I can talk to him about it later in class.

Looking down at the hands that now rest in my lap, I curl my fingers into fists as the images of Gaara's father stabbing him begin to creep their way into my minds eye. _What was that all about ? There is no way I could know an accurate description of Gaara's home life, so what is my brain trying to tell me ?_

Thinking about Gaara's reaction to merely touching him, I decide it will be a bad idea to directly ask something even semi personal. I feel a slight ache in my back from remembering the exchange from yesterday. For a scrawny looking guy, Gaara has some muscle.

I need to know about him. I don't know why, but I'm drawn to those soulless teal eyes. I want to know every secret he hides from the human race, I want to know what kind of pain he has endured. If he's like me.

I start to calculate how much time I have left until physics starts before I remember I have an afternoon class today. Giving a sigh of relief, I visit my dresser and pluck an article of the folded clothing from inside each drawer before leaving my room to head for the showers. A good soaking will ease some of the tension building in my muscles and hopefully lighten my hangover. I need to find Gaara.

 **Gaara's POV**

I wake slowly to a silent darkness. Looking to my clock, my suspicions are confirmed as I see the weed knocked me out only about 4 hours. It's almost 3:30am and I don't even bother hoping that I'll return to the sleeping world. As I move from the bed, I clutch my stomach as a vicious growl erupts from its pits.

Usually, I find that I'm never very hungry. Even the need for food that works up after smoking doesn't affect me but every now and then. It's not that I consider myself anorexic, bodily appearance isn't exactly something I prioritize in my daily life. Father always does comment on my "sickly" appearance, but he never fails to call me out when I show interest in sustenance either. Because of this I just avoid the subject all together around family, and find time for food elsewhere.

This is one of those times.

I put an ear to the crack of my door, peering into the hall with my sense of sound. When I detect no movement, I confirm in my mind that it is safe to proceed. I swiftly and silently move through the shadows of the house to the kitchen downstairs.

I stand in front of the tall black fridge before pulling it open to examine my choices. The light that washes out over me illuminates the kitchen with its glow.

Among the basic milk, eggs, etc, there isn't much. Thankfully, it seems Temari weaseled her way out of cooking again last night. Apparently she isn't very talented at the craft, and often orders takeout. A box of off brand pizza stares at me from a shelf in the fridge.

Without removing the box from its resting place, I slip one of the triangles out and close the heavy door, returning the kitchen to an eery darkness.

I am not too big a fan of pizza, but there aren't many other quick options. I pull a paper plate from a cabinet and throw my cold food in the microwave. As the machine lights up with life, I cross my arms and tap my foot lightly in an impatient manner while the counter clocks down. I feel almost vulnerable standing out here, even though it is dark.

 _Fifteen seconds_ I count along in my head.

I hear shuffling movements behind me but I cannot see the person causing it. I spin around, assuming the worst outcome.

The intruder flips on the light, and I bow my head in dread as my suspicions are confirmed. At the worst possible moment, the loud beeping of the microwave assaults my ears. I hold back my grimace at the now present situation.

Looking up without moving my head, I meet the gaze of my father. I restrain cringing backwards at the immediate wave of submission that threatens to overcome my anger.

 _I refuse to let him win._

He speaks without warning, attacking me with sound waves that form twisted words.

"You filthy worm, you don't deserve a single crumb of the food this family works so hard to bring to the table," he spits at me with malice, moving towards me with a threatening intent.

I don't dare to budge as he reaches his hand out, only to my surprise he doesn't lay a finger on me. He wrenches the plate of food from the microwave and throws it into the trash bin aggressively.

I clench my hands so tightly I feel my fingernails cut into the palm of my hand. My teeth grind so roughly my jaw begins to ache, every muscle in my body is wound tightly preparing to retaliate. How badly I want to end him right here, to kill him and run away. Run far away and create a new life for myself.

But I can't. I have nothing. He has my hands tied.

 _Why does he do this to me ? It wasn't my fault !_ I scream in my head. After so many years, I would think he would learn to move on and accept the reality before him. His hatred has warped the minds of my only siblings and turned even them against me.

He stands smugly like an alpha dog, asserting his dominance over me. Leaning his face uncomfortably close to mine, I struggle not to shrink away from his hot breath in disgust.

"Get back to your room and go to bed you little shit. Don't let me catch you up this late again," he barks his threats at me while pointing at the stairs.

Murder in my vision, I trudge begrudgingly past him and up the wooden steps only to find Temari's pitiful stare waiting for me at the top.

She always does this, looks on at me with sorrow after one of fathers abusive episodes as if it really hurt her. She never cared, not all these years has she confronted that man for his doings, but watched on from a distance.

I don't meet her gaze as I push my away around her, slamming my room door behind me for all in the silent house to hear.

I fall to my knees, grasping fistfuls of my blood red locks in anger, my body shrinking in on itself. I bathe in the rage, my eyes squeezing shut as I pull harder and harder at the hair tangled in my fingers.

 _I hate you, I hate you all so much and I just wish you would die._

I lash out with hate at the ghostly representations of my family looming around my head. I breathe heavily as I drive the images to the back of my mind, bottling them up with the rest of my demons.

I let my arms fall to my sides as I give in to the pain the anger brings me. Numbness creeps into my body and I struggle to right myself from my position on the floor. I take note that it's close to four in the morning now, and I won't be getting back to sleep any time soon.

A knocking interrupts my train of thought, pulling me back to a working state of mind. Irritatedly I turn to the door, no longer caring about what will happen.

I lean close to the doorframe, hissing out a "what" as response to the gesture.

I hear Temari's voice float through the crack lining the door. "I brought you some food," She starts carefully in her level voice.

I sneer at her words, refusing to buy into her "kindness."

"Go away, Temari," my reply is stone, anger seeping into the retort, making it clear I will not waver.

"Listen, even you need to eat, Gaara. I'll leave it here," she states authoritatively, although not telling me to do anything directly.

I hear her footsteps retreating and push the matter from my mind quickly. My appetite was lost the moment I saw _him_ , so I do not bother with the food my sister brought.

I sit on the edge of my bed and sigh as my eyes flit longingly to the drawer that homes my drug paraphernalia. How badly I wish I could smoke my problems away right now. Alas, my family is awake and would smell the pungent odor of the burning plant.

I then remember I don't have morning art class today, which means I will be free once everyone else clears out in a few hours.

Satisfied with my ploy, I move towards my art desk. I accept that it's going to be a long while before I can safely retreat from the house and pull out a sketchbook, turning to a blank page.

I stare at the white space as ideas wash over the paper, many images of gruesome deaths appearing over the empty white sheet.

Suddenly the face of the blonde headed boy from yesterday comes to life on the surface of the white rectangle. His eyes hold more shades of blue than I can name, they dazzle like jewels. His smile is gentle yet powerful, radiating a warmth I am not familiar with. His demeanor seems so blissful and carefree, I long for that kind of existence.

I crush the picture forming in my mind and on the paper.

There is no way some half wit can woo me with false kindness and admiration. He is nothing to me. Just a commissioner.

As new ideas creep into my imagination, I begin violently mapping out the placement of subject matter on my sketch pad, forcing the thoughts of that blond vexation from my thought process.

xxxxxx

Nuzzled into the embrace of long tangled roots and a chilly afternoon, I stare at the skillfully rolled joint between my thumb and index finger.

The time has finally come where I can wash away all the events that have tainted my thoughts the past 6 or so hours.

Thankfully that extension of time was short lived while I spent it filling page after page in my sketchbook.

Thinking to the bloody figures representing my family portrayed through a string of massacres fills me with a slight feeling of satisfaction.

I hope to see them that way some day.

Pulling myself from my dark thoughts, I focus my attention on the blunt again. I've been visiting this spot hidden in the trees frequently in my time at this college, noting that I am of the few who find their ways to the foliage. Confident my smoking will go unnoticed, I light the cigarette impersonation and take a long drag.

I always did hate smoking from a joint, the smoke is much too hot for my taste. Nonetheless, I continue sucking clouds from the luxury. I watch the white fumes swirl and dance away on their own accord, feeling the high creep into my muscles. My limbs slowly go limp with pleasure buzzing through my nervous system and I feel my eyes begin to burn, closing them in turn.

I focus on the feelings coursing through my body, losing myself in the bliss. My head droops to the side lightly as I feel myself falling into a state of unconscious awareness. Sound reaches my ears but my body does not recognize it.

My body does, however, recognize the sound of my name being called out by an overly enthusiastic voice.

Naruto.

My eyes tear open and my muscles tense as horror floods my body.

 _Fuck._

 **Naruto's POV**

Strolling the foreign halls of the art building, I search for the only lead I have. My eyes are drawn to the only decorated door in the hall. In big bubble letters are the words "Art Is Explosive !" Followed by a mushroom cloud printout underneath.

Something told me this was my guy, so I peer into the window of the classroom. It is void of students but the lights are still on, allowing me to spot what I presume is the teacher towards the back of the room.

I let myself into the room after giving a knock, approaching the blonde man who now turned to face me.

He meets me with a sly smile "Here to contribute to the wonders and joys of art ?" He draws out, the smile never leaving his lips.

I have to admit the guy gives me the creeps, but he might be able to help me find Gaara. I haven't seen him around at all today, and I don't know what any of his other classes are.

"Uh, no, I was actually wondering if you know where Gaara scampered off to ? Have you seen him today ?" I ask a little shyly, my arm instinctively finding its place behind my head in slight embarrassment.

His eyes widen for a moment at my mention of the name.

"You're looking for Gaara ? Have you met the guy before ? He'll tear you to pieces, kid" he chuckles after that, turning to an art project behind him I didn't notice when I came in.

I don't know why his statement made me want to blush. I shake off the feeling and walk a little closer, curious as to what he is working on.

I peer around him to see he is kneading a clump of pale clay in his hands, forming a piece of the sculpture to fit what he has already constructed. The craftsmanship is beautiful, every detail accounted for.

"Wow that's really amazing !" I compliment genuinely.

I pout to myself in jealously of such a talent. I wish I knew how to make something mind blowing with simple tools. My greatest talent is being annoying.

I see the man smile to himself at the praise before turning to me.

"It's going to be an owl, and once it's finished I will detonate it in a magnificent explosion !" He explains to me passionately before continuing in a more even tone. "As for your question, no, I have not seen Gaara today. He has other art classes besides mine, one of them being later in the afternoon today. Even if I had seen him, I wouldn't know where he ran off to. The boy hates me," the man I pieced together as Deidara chuckled to himself like he made a joke.

I guess I can't be surprised with that piece of information. Gaara doesn't strike me as the friendly type. Still, I wonder if there is reason for his attitude towards the teacher.

"Why is that ?" I let my curiosity get the best of me.

Deidara looks to me, amused. "Because I recognize his talent. He is such a strange case, isn't he ? Have you seen his work before ? Surely you must have if you know of him," he muses almost to himself.

"Well, I paid him to draw me a picture but I haven't seen much else. Does he have any work here ?" I light up in hope of seeing more into Gaara's mysterious life.

The blonde man's face contorts in shock momentarily before returning to his usual playful smile, nodding and waving for me to follow him. He rummages through a closet stored with odds and ends, finally emerging with a black portfolio case adorning the red head's name.

He lay out papers of all sizes on a nearby table, ushering me forward to observe the works.

I stare breathless at the array of art displayed. Each piece holds its own novel of back story and meaning, baring a different depiction of death.

"Splendid, aren't they ?" Deidara admires from close behind, startling me from my concentration.

"Yeah they sure are !" I agree wholeheartedly, a smile lighting up my face.

My smile doesn't stay for long, however.

I hear the blonde teacher begin to ramble about Gaara's talent and achievements, but I'm no longer listening.

My eyes lock with a group of three paintings side by side.

Each of them portray the torturous dreams that have plagued my sleep.

All the air in my lungs seems to vanish, and I'm left gaping at what I see. I blink in hopes that I'm going crazy and just imagined it, but as my eyes open again I'm faced with the reality at hand.

Each painting is of the last moment before death, and they all hold one common characteristic different from the others on the table.

These are self portraits.

My brain can't seem to comprehend the information I've just received, not to mention if it is even connected to my dreams.

But it has to be, something like this can't be coincidence.

"Hey kid, are you alright ?" Deidara's sudden change in tone brought me from my spacing out.

I quickly turn to him and subconsciously replicate the muscle movements of a smile. "Haha yeah, I just got a little distracted by how great Gaara's art is ! He really is a master," my compliment is genuine, but my happiness is not.

"Well, I better get going and find that sneaky devil. Thanks for showing me the stuff !" I say to him respectfully and hastily before dashing out of his room. I don't bother waiting for a reply, I just need to get out of here.

I channel my confusion into determination as I exit the building. This discovery only piques my interest in Gaara, fueling my drive to locate him. Turning to the courtyard, I decide to visit the only place I haven't looked yet.

As I near the trees, I don't spot him automatically, so I call out his name. Snooping around the roots of the oaks, I see speckles of red through some openings of the tangled plant. I scurry over to investigate and immediately begin to beam.

"I found you !" I declare proudly, as if we have been playing hide and seek this whole time.

"Go away," is all I receive from the usual grumpy boy.

When I finally take a good look at him, I notice he seems different than when we first met face to face. His body language doesn't scream 'get away from me' and he seems more asleep than awake. He is avidly avoiding looking anywhere near me, focusing on his hands or the roots that envelope his slim body. There's a strange smell hanging in the air that I can't quite name.

"Hey are you alright man ? Were you asleep ? Sorry if I woke you up," I apologize immediately, hoping that isn't the case. Any reasonable person just woken from a nap is extra deadly.

"Listen, I'm not in the mood for your voice today," he says slowly and carefully, as if he thought about each word before saying it. His tone lacked aggression, which gave me motivation to push him a little farther.

"Okay, I can do that. I just wanted to ask if you would show me how to draw ? Deidara showed me your work and I'm really jealous ! I want to be able to do that. Show me ? Please ? I won't say a word, I promise," I clasp my hands together as I beg him.

He glares at me with sleepy looking eyes, taking the edge off of the normally menacing face. He closes those seafoam orbs from my sight and lays his head back against the tree he is leaning on as he shakes his head.

I crouch to the ground and crawl closer to him, determined to have my way. "Please, Gaara ?" I give him a puppy dog face, doubting it would work on the emotionless soul but I still try regardless.

He opens his eyes to look up at me, but the blank stare that greets mine lets me know he is galaxies away. He groans at my persistence before pulling a bag I hadn't seen before into his lap. He pulls out two sketchbooks and a small pouch I assume has pencils hiding in it. I start to bounce with excitement. _It worked !_

"You will never visit my classroom again," he states firmly as he hands me the unused sketchbook with an intense stare.

I take the bound book cautiously but the smile doesn't leave my face. "It's a deal !" I accept, squeeing internally at my victory. I wonder to myself what made him change his mind, but I dont care now that I get to learn his teachings.

"Uh, what should I draw first then ?" I ask, suddenly realizing that I had no idea I would get this far. As I pull the sketchbook into my lap, I catch a whiff of the strange incense like smell I noticed earlier.

"Hey are you wearing some weird cologne or somethin' ?" I ask quizzically, sniffing the air near him.

He pulls back away from me as I lean closer to smell around him, shooting daggers with his glare. "Just draw me until you're satisfied with how it looks," he directs flatly, avoiding my second question as he holds out a bundle of black pencils in his fist.

I extend my waiting hand to accept the art utensils, letting the unanswered question slip to the back of my mind. His fingers graze my palm for a moment as he drops the pencils into my care. I feel a small tingle go down my spine and suppress a visible shudder.

 _What the hell ?_ I ask myself, taken aback by my reaction to the brief skin contact. _Well, it_ is _chilly out here, his hands must be cold too._ I rationalize confidently.

I outwardly smile at my excellent deduction skills and finally look down at the pencils just given to me. _They all look the same to me, what's the big deal ?_ I scrunch my face in skeptical confusion before I notice numbered letters on the ends of each one. _4H, 2B, 7H, 5B,_ and so on.

"They're drawing pencils. The B's are darker and the H's are lighter," Gaara speaks up, to my complete surprise.

"Ooooh," I grin with the new knowledge before my face scrunches back up again. "Wait, but what does that have do with drawing ?" I ask, this drawing stuff already becoming a lot to handle.

Gaara just sighs, not bothering to answer me. "Figure it out and get drawing," he mumbles while opening his own sketch book.

Determined, I do the same and pick a pencil at random before setting the others to the side. I watch Gaara looks to me and then his paper repeatedly as he draws and decide to try that as well.

I start to outline his face, eyes and nose meticulously. I fill in the hair and add his kanji below the hairline. As I slowly form a picture with lines, I take in all the details of Gaara's face.

We are considerably closer than what I was allowed yesterday, and I can clearly see his smooth white complexion and radiant hair. The deep red brought out the fairness of his skin, giving him his own glow. I could see the dark lines of make up lining his tired, red tinted eyes. _Has Gaara been crying ? No way, he does_ _ **not**_ _look like one to cry._ Many times throughout the drawing session we made brief eye contact, and each time I felt a strange fluttery sensation in my stomach. I brush it off as his intimidation getting to me from such close quarters.

I start to think back to the dreams I had while I draw. Looking deeply into Gaara's strangely pupil devoid eyes, I wonder what has happened in his past to make him what he is now. Is there any truth to the dreams ? There must be if he himself painted them for me to experience. I wonder how that could happen, how I could dream up one of his paintings. Is he really a satanist like people say ? Maybe, but somehow that only makes me want to get closer to the mysterious boy. I will wiggle my way through the cracks of his castle defense and find the inner child he hides from the light of day.

After what seemed like an eternity, I'm satisfied with what I have done and turn the page to face Gaara.

"So, is it perfect or what ?" I boast as I grin, watching for Gaara's reaction.

The only hint of movement I see on his whole face is a slight twitch of the eye before handing me his own drawing.

I compare the two side by side and pout. Obviously Gaara's is better. I study how each of our drawings differ. He adds much more detail where I left blank, and the face looks more accurate to that of someone standing in front of you. I see his sketch is done in light lines while the details contain many blacks and greys while I used only a darker pencil for the entire drawing. Checking the label, I see I used a B.

I return Gaara's drawing with a nod. "I'll do even better tomorrow !" I promise with confidence.

Pulling out my phone, I see the time has flown by. It's almost 1 and I need to get headed to class, I have to talk to Kiba.

"Well Gaara, it's been fun, but I have to go to class now !" I say with a friendly smile as I return the art supplies to the red head.

He gives a small nod but says nothing, continuing to avoid looking at me now that he no longer has to. I accept that it's the best I'll get and stand to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow ! Don't forget to bring that stuff again," I call back to him as I head for my dorm to get my supplies for class.

I stop in and grab some lunch ramen before gathering my things to leave. As I lock my door, I see a familiar grey in the corner of my eye. A grin lights up my face and I turn to see Kiba and Akamaru walking towards me.

"Kiba ! Oh man I thought you would hate my guts forever and I was just so confused !" I start to babble when Kiba catches up to me.

Catching me off guard, he silences my rambling as he takes my shoulders tightly. I look at his downcast face with wide eyes.

"Kiba ?" I whisper after he doesn't answer for a few moments.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, for what I said last night. That was the alcohol talking, not me. I still think you should watch yourself around the kid, but I'm not upset if you want to be his friend." He smiles warmly after he finishes his apology, causing my own lips to bloom into a grin.

"Aww shucks Kiba, it's no big deal !" I reassure him before catching his head in the crook of my arm in a headlock.

Akamaru barks and they both bite me hard at the same time. I scream in surprise and jump back from him before laughing loudly. "Okay okay, I know not to try that one again !" I exclaim, rubbing my arm as I return to Kiba's side.

Akamaru barks proudly and Kiba smirks, placing the pup in his jacket. "You got that right ! Say, Naruto," Kiba starts before his face screws up in confusion. "Why do you smell like smoke ? Have you been smoking ?" He asks bluntly as he steps closer to smell my clothes.

"Huh ?! What kind of a question is that, Kiba ! Of course I'm not smoking !" I defend myself quickly, taken aback by the sudden accusation.

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. "Naruto, if you're smoking just fess up. You stink of weed, and my nose doesn't lie," he pries farther, but I literally have no clue what he's talking about.

Akamaru sniffs for a moment before barking what I assume to be a confirmation. Kiba looks down at him and nods, making a head gesture as he looks back to me. "Even Akamaru smells it," he says irritatedly.

"Kiba I'm being serious ! I've never smoked a puff in my life, I've never even seen weed before !" I frantically try to convince him. Where did this even come from ? I do not want to end up in the dog house again over something I took no part in.

He just rolls his eyes and turns to leave, but not before waving for me to accompany him. "Whatever Naruto, I guess that's your own deal. We better get to English though before Iruka kills us," he states flatly as he gets walking.

Sighing to myself in relief to drop the subject, I flock to him with a skip in my step, trying to lighten his tense mood. I elbow his arm lightly as I give him a sly smile.

"I know you don't want to miss out on two hours of Hinata," I tease him, bouncing my eyebrows at his flushing face.

"Ah can it, Naruto," he shoots back at me, but I know I've won. "Bet I can beat you there," he challenges suddenly.

He always has to win at something. The thought of getting at him again makes my face break out in a cocky smile. "You're gonna eat my dust !" I shout and burst out into a sprint towards the building of our next class, Kiba right on my heels.

xxxxx

Iruka is hands down my favourite teacher, but his class is _so_ boring. Writing in any form is not my forte, and often times I end up falling asleep. If it weren't for Kiba and his childish pranks keeping me awake, I would probably be failing at this point. Thankfully the two hours passed quickly, and I am now free the rest of the day. Kiba and I exit together, heading for the dorms as we laugh at a corny joke he just made.

"Naruto ! Kiba !" I hear a high pitched voice call to us from the direction of the classroom we just left. I turn to see a waving pink haired girl jogging up to us.

"Hey Sakura !" My smile erupts at the sight of my childhood friend. "What's up ?" I ask her as she comes within speaking range.

"There's a party going on tonight and everyone is going ! You guys in or what ?" She asks excitedly with an expectant face.

Kiba and I both grin to each other, already knowing the others answer.

"Duh ! We wouldn't miss it !" I answer, already pumped for a good time with my friends.

"Yeah count me in !" Kiba chimes.

Sakura squees and pulls out her phone. "I'll text you guys the info, be there by 8," she informs us as she turns to her friends I notice waiting in the distance.

I give a wave to Ino and Hinata before continuing my way back to my cozy dorm room, Kiba in tow. As we pass through the courtyard, I give a glance to Gaara's hiding spot and instantly light up in a smile.

"Kiba, I gotta do something real quick, I'll catch up with you before we go to the party, alright ?" I explain to him and take off towards the trees.

 **Gaara's POV**

Looking down at my nearly finished piece, I admire the shading and lines put into it. It is the portrait of Naruto I started earlier. I think back to when he was sitting directly in front of me, staring at every detail of my face with those intense blue eyes. I normally despise such closeness from others, but he didn't give off the vibe of distaste I usually feel from others. It was almost just as calming as it is now while I'm alone.

Scowling outwardly at the thoughts, I begin to get angry at the positive feelings I can't seem to understand. I'm letting myself get weak, and this will only lead to me being deceived. Why does he even care about me ? Why did he go into my class and ask about me ? More importantly, how did he even know what class I have ? I didn't appreciate him poking his nose in my business.

I see a blur of movement approaching, wrenching me from the thoughts I submersed myself in. I look up to see the very blonde who occupied the space in my head. He smiles widely at the sight of the drawing in my lap, lowering himself to the ground to sit with me. I glance up at him momentarily but say nothing, although it doesn't seem to phase the boy.

"So, there's a party tonight and-"

"No," I cut him off, already uninterested in his offer. I don't do parties, or any type of socialization for that matter.

"Oh come on, Gaara ! You didn't even let me finish !" He whines, looking at me with a pouty face. "All my friends are going, I promise it'll be a great time ! Just come, please ?" he begs before a sly grin replaces his puppy face. "I guarantee there will be booze, if you're into that I mean," he inquires after the bribe.

I stare at him blankly as his words tumble out, weighing my options. I have a feeling he won't drop the subject until I give in. I could beat the shit out of him and get my message across, but something told me I shouldn't do that. _Why ?_ I don't know, but I tell myself I am too tired to waste my energy on beating him up right now. I hate having to be around strangers, but the exchange between my father and I early in the morning hours still lies under the surface of my skin. If I see him, I'm not sure if it will be a good experience for either of us.

Reluctantly, I admit it will probably be easier on myself to just go. I wouldn't have to deal with the blonde's infuriating persistence and I would avoid having to confront my family.

"When is it ?" I ask the waiting boy. As I expected, he jitters with glee at another victory. I hold back the urge to roll my eyes.

"It starts at 8 ! Uh, do you room in a dorm ? Do you want us to pick you up or do you want to meet us somewhere ?" He asks a little awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

I will do anything to avoid having the blonde discover where I live, especially considering it's so close by; he would never leave me alone after that.

"I'll meet you at your dorm," I tell him, hoping that would satisfy him. "Now will you leave me alone ?" I demand more than ask, wanting to have as much peace as I can before I'm dragged to the temporary hell on earth.

"Okay, fine, show up at my place around 7:45. I'll see you soon !" He grins and jumps up, waving goodbye before heading to the housing area.

I sigh and rub my temples roughly before packing my things away. My father doesn't get home until late, so I have a few hours to go home and get ready before the party starts.

I groan as I rise to my feet and head to the front entrance of the school.

 _What have I gotten myself into ?_


End file.
